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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683932">Close Call</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBelly/pseuds/YellowBelly'>YellowBelly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Geralt/Jaskier is only implied, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier Whump, Kinda, Other, except that Geralt sucks at comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:22:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBelly/pseuds/YellowBelly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier gets hurt. Jaskier wasn't even supposed to BE here.  Geralt deals with feelings, poorly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Close Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice sounded harsh, even to his own ears. But he had to get Jaskier to respond, he couldn’t be-- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment nothing happened, and then the man’s eyelids fluttered. His face was alarmingly pale under the long streak of blood running from his hair, and it made his long lashes stand out starkly as his eyes opened just a little. “Wha’s…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt sat back on his heels and looked up at the sky, letting himself exhale for what felt like the first time in five minutes. “Do that again and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill you.” Again, not really the tone he was going for, but what had Jaskier expected, following him out here when Geralt had </span>
  <em>
    <span>explicitly</span>
  </em>
  <span> told him not to? He’s lucky it hadn’t been worse--he’s lucky he isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Geralt had hardly noticed the bard, he’d been so distracted by trying not to die himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment played itself back in his mind. He’d seen Jaskier only a second before the monster’s grasping arms had found the man, and he’d been too far away. He’d tried to shout a warning, but Jaskier had only managed to stumble upright and run a few steps before the creature had taken the bard by the leg, whipping him like a ragdoll into the trees. Geralt had heard the impact as Jaskier’s head had struck the treetrunk, had heard the man’s alarmed yelp cut off as though he’d been silenced for good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked back down at the man, and searched him for other injuries as Jaskier managed a weak protest. There was some bruising on his ribs, but nothing that wouldn’t heal--Geralt was most worried about the knock Jaskier had taken to the head, and helped him up carefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me a reason I shouldn’t leave you out here.” Geralt groused, although his hands were gentle. Relief and worry were warring with the adrenaline still flowing through his veins, and it was making him sharp. “If you’re so determined to get yourself killed, maybe I should let you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier just sagged against his side, face drawn and pale, and Geralt shook his head, his concern darkening. It wasn’t like Jaskier to be this quiet, even injured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He said, voice sharp, prompting. “Nothing? No excuses? You’re not going to try to tell me you were here for my own good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please stop yelling at me.” Jaskier finally mumbled. “I’m wounded.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Geralt was relieved to hear the man put together a full sentence, though. “You should have stayed back in town like I told you, you would have been safe there. You’re a liability out here.” He sounded angry. He didn’t want to sound angry, he just wanted Jaskier to be safe. He could kill as many monsters as he wanted, but he couldn’t save the bard from the stupidity it took to </span>
  <em>
    <span>follow</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jaskier stay away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier hunched his shoulders a little bit, face pinched, and huffed out a pained breath. “Sorry to be an inconvenience.” The words were barely loud enough to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t be</span>
  </em>
  <span> next time.” Geralt got Jaskier up on Roach, swinging up behind him. “I’ll take you to a healer.” He said, voice marginally gentler. Now that he was settled behind Jaskier, he could feel that the man was shivering. That probably wasn’t a good sign.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier didn’t respond, and Geralt looked worriedly down at the back of his head as he got Roach moving. There was dirt in his hair, and bits of twigs. Part of it was thickly matted with drying blood, and Geralt pushed Roach into a canter. He didn’t like his friend’s unnatural silence, or his lack of argument. Briefly, he thought back to the bruising on Jaskier’s ribs. The monster hadn’t touched him there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaskier,” He asked quietly, “why did you leave town?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought you were done yelling at me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, there was silence. “Got chased out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaskier--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t my fault.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt scoffed. “No?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier just shook his head wearily. “They--really don’t like you there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He left it at that, and Geralt frowned. “...Where’s your lute?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Back in the inn I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt could feel his frown turn to a glower. He could picture the scene well enough. He even had a guess who it had been, those toughs who’d glared at him as he and the local silversmith had worked out a contract. Jaskier had probably tried to argue his way out of it as they’d pushed him along the streets out of town. He’d probably tried to go back for the lute, and that was when they’d made their point with a few bodyblows that wouldn’t bruise so obviously as a punch to the face. It would account for how slow Jaskier had been to run, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you come all the way out here, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier mumbled something unintelligible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t worth pressing the man more, Geralt believed him. And he had a guess why Jaskier had come so far from town, too. He’d heard the man mention it before, offhandedly, and had only ever taken the time to scoff at the concept. Jaskier felt safe with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a mistake, obviously. If getting harassed by local toughs wasn’t proof enough of that, Jaskier had his head wound as additional proof. This sort of thing would have made a more reasonable man abandon him long ago. But if there was one thing Geralt knew about Jaskier, it was that the man was nearly as stubborn as he was, and ‘reasonable’ wasn’t a word that anyone was likely to use to describe him. But if Jaskier had been chased out of town on Geralt’s account, and come to find him for safety and gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> as his reward…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt thought of how he’d found Jaskier after killing the monster. The man had looked like a small, brightly-colored bird that had been crushed in someone’s hand, his flashy clothing dirty and torn, crumpled among the ferns and wet moss at the base of the tree.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d looked very dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And apparently, it had been at least partly on Geralt’s account. Dull guilt rang in Geralt’s chest, and he settled a little closer to the man, glad he was still here to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> annoyed at. Geralt still hadn’t quite recovered from the spike of fear he’d felt at thinking the man was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He said very quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought he saw the briefest ghost of a smile on Jaskier’s face, but the man soon fell unconscious again, and Geralt held him against his chest with one arm, steering Roach with the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d be having some words with those toughs when they got back to town. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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